


Gravity

by SherlockWolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddles, Destiel - Freeform, Feels, Fluff, M/M, POV Castiel, Reunion, cas is alive, dean can feel better now that cas is back, post 13x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: Castiel is alive. And an angel once again. He finds the Winchesters, ends happy.





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> I'm procrastinating on NaNoWriMo again because I have only a few days left to write about Cas coming back until Cas and Dean act out one of Dean's cowboy fantasies and then that's all I'll be thinking about for the rest of my life. Also shout out to Denver, see if you catch the location reference. I miss home right now so it was cool that 13x05 took place in beautiful CO.

    Castiel had made many, many mistakes in the last eight years of his life. Many had nearly gotten him killed. Many had saved the world. Many had nearly ended it.

But the one mistake Castiel would never regret came in the form of the human named Dean Winchester.

When he’d pulled the man from Hell, Castiel could never have envisioned what would happen next. He could never have imagined all of the mistakes he would make, or that Dean would make, or that Sam would make. He could never have imagined the lives the three of them would save together. He could never have imagined feeling as though he belonged, was loved, and had family.

Yet here he was, lying in the void, surrounded by nothing, trapped with his thoughts, and missing his family.

Sam, who refused to get a haircut, who was one of the most intelligent and heartfelt humans Castiel had ever met, who was truly a gentle giant, and Castiel’s best friend.

Dean, who was rough around the edges and soft everywhere else, who’s green eyes could bore holes into Castiel’s grace, who let Castiel redeem himself over and over and over, who was one of the kindest humans, who had taught Castiel how to love, who had helped him…

Castiel choked up as he thought about Dean, and he had to bring his thoughts to a full stop to prevent himself from breaking down. He was never going to see Dean Winchester again. All he had now was memories, feelings, and those would fade with time.

In time he would lose Dean forever.

If he wasn’t already dead, the thought would have killed him.

Something stirred in the void, and Castiel found himself looking at his own face.

~

He found himself lying in a field, staring up at the blue sky with the sun shining down on his face. Standing, Castiel looked down at his vessel—no, his body—to find it healed and dressed in clothes he hadn’t seen in years.

He wondered at the miracle of it. How he had woken up to annoy the Empty, he didn’t know, but a feeling in his gut told him that it had something to do with Sam and Dean.

Castiel wandered for hours, searching for civilization. As he walked, he noticed that he was hearing voices, quiet but present, and only in his mind. It took him a full mile to realize he was hearing angel radio.

Shocked, Castiel continued to pay more and more attention to himself. He felt something else within his body, something so familiar yet so forgotten. It was grace. And not just any. It was his own.

Whatever the Empty had done had reconstructed him. He was an angel again, one hundred percent.

Except, he wasn’t unemotional, unattached, or generally void of interest as he had once been. Instead, this knowledge excited him to the point where he began to laugh and smile. Castiel was himself again, a self he hadn’t been in a very, very long time.

Knowing what he did now, Castiel stopped walking and closed his eyes against the setting sun. He pictured the door of the bunker in his mind, and willed himself to go there as he once would have.

And then he flew. He felt wings spread from his shoulders, and he hurtled across the American landscape. He was closing in on Kansas, to the bunker, when suddenly he collided with a wall that bounced him into Colorado.

Dazed, Castiel found himself leaning against a brick wall in an alley way. He leaned against it for a few minutes until the feeling of vertigo receded. It had been so long since he’d flown, and even longer since he’d had to deal with angel wards. He’d completely forgotten that the bunker was protected.

Castiel exited the alleyway to get his bearings, and found himself standing on a bustling city street. Pedestrians were walking around wearing light jackets in the chill night air. Small groups of homeless people were gathered around the street, and street performers were scattered in the middle of the stone road. Castiel squinted, curious as to why there were no cars.

But, that wasn’t his focus right now. Right now, he needed to find a phone.

Looking around, Castiel didn’t see a phone anywhere. The curse of the modern day was that everyone had cell phones. No one needed a pay phone except someone who’d just risen from the dead.

Castiel approached a couple who were watching a horse and carriage pass by. Asking if they knew of any payphones, he was pleased to learn that they could point him to one. It was a short walk down another alleyway, but Castiel found it easily. He noticed a flashing cross on his way, and scoffed at the irony. Hopefully the brothers wouldn’t tease him over the location.

Dialing the number he knew by heart, Castiel waited with growing excitement and anxiety. This wasn’t the first time he’d come back from the dead, but it was certainly the most surprising. After all, a few hours ago he’d been lying in the void, never expecting to hear Dean’s voice again.

The phone clicked as it picked up.

“Yeah?”

There it was. Dean’s voice.

Some emotion he couldn’t name flooded through Castiel’s veins. Taking a breath, he said,

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean didn’t say anything, and Castiel felt nervous. Was Dean still mad at him, even after they’d lost one another?

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was so quiet, and shook so violently, Castiel barely heard him.

“It’s me.”

“Where are you?”

“Denver. The payphone behind the Hard Rock Café.”

“Don’t move.” Dean demanded, and then the line clicked off.

Castiel leaned against a fence, and did just what Dean asked. He waited.

Soon he heard the rumble of the Impala, and turned from staring beyond the fence when a door slammed.

There was Sam, shock written all over his face.

And there was Dean.

The greatest mistake of Castiel’s ancient and endless life.

Castiel couldn’t take his eyes off the man, feeling like he was shattering yet rebuilding at the same time.

Dean’s expression meant he felt the same way.

It was like gravity, Castiel thought later, how they had come together. Whether he or Dean moved first, he didn’t know. All he knew was that they collided, arms pulling the other as close as possible, hands gripping clothes and promising never to let go again, eyes filled with tears that told stories of a million sorrows.

Dean drove to the bunker faster than he ever had in his life, which Sam commented on when they arrived and stumbled through the door. Sam had filled Castiel in on the hunt they’d been on that day, and it was clear that their exhaustion plus the emotional toll of having him return to them had the brothers close to crashing.

The angel wards pressed against Castiel’s chest with every step he took toward the door, and it took all his strength to walk through it unrepelled. Once he was beyond it, though, the pressure lifted as though it were never there.

He took a deep breath as he followed the brothers down the stairs. Looking around, he was pleased to see that nothing had changed. The bunker was as home as it ever was.

Sam pulled Castiel into yet another hug, then said he needed to sleep, and would talk with Castiel in the morning. Castiel agreed, knowing that Sam would ask him questions he couldn’t answer, but wished he could for the younger Winchester’s peace of mind.

“Cas.” Dean whispered, and Castiel realized he’d been staring after Sam. Switching his gaze to Dean, who was standing across the planning table from him, Castiel felt the gravitational pull again. He gave in, walking around the table to stand in front of Dean.

Dean was looking at him, his face sullen, his posture beginning to slouch forward as though he were crumbling inside.

“How?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know.” Castiel shrugged vaguely. He really had no idea how he was standing here.

One of Dean’s hands rose, as though to touch Castiel, but it dropped back to his side.

There he was, Dean Winchester. Second guessing himself after all of these years. Castiel felt tension rise in him, and instead of letting the moment pass as he always did, he took Dean’s hand and brought it to his face like the man had intended.

“Dean.” Castiel began his lecture, to tell off the human for being stubborn even after this chance they’d been given, but Dean shook his head ever so slightly, so Castiel let it go. Dean’s fingers traced Castiel’s jawline without prompt, shaking against Castiel’s palm as they went. Dean’s eyes followed their trace.

Castiel just watched Dean, watched his green eyes fill with tears, watched his lips twitch into a disbelieving smile, watched lines crinkle around his face as he concentrated on Castiel’s.

Finally Dean looked back up at him. Their clasped hands fell between them, and Dean even tightened his grip. As they continued to stand there, Dean began to fade before Castiel’s eyes, the exhaustion no longer kept at bay.

“You need to sleep.” Castiel told him gently.

Dean shook his head.

“I’ll be here in the morning.” Castiel reassured him.

Dean shook his head again and managed to choke out, his voice raspy, “Can’t leave you.”

Knowing that protesting was a losing battle, Castiel lead Dean by the hand to Dean’s bedroom and sat him on the bed. He had to let go of Dean’s hand to pull the chair from the desk and sit in it. When he was settled, Dean reached out for him again.

Castiel understood and reciprocated Dean’s need for physical reassurance, but Dean wasn’t going to sleep sitting up. When he said as much, Dean groaned but gave in. As Castiel got up to turn off the light, Dean shucked out of his jeans and layers, and climbed into bed. The man lay on his side, watching Castiel who scooted his chair close to the edge of the bed before sitting in it again. Castiel held out his hand, but Dean did nothing.

“Cas…” Dean whispered, his eyes blurred with fresh tears.

Castiel didn’t know how to respond, but then Dean was pulling the covers back and reaching toward the angel. His hand caught on Castiel’s sleeve and tugged.

“Please.” Was all Dean could say, his voice still thick with held back tears, but his meaning was clear. Castiel stood, removed his coats and shoes, and tentatively climbed into bed with Dean. Dean had moved back so Castiel could have enough space to organize himself, but once Castiel was settled Dean pressed against him with an arm slung over his chest and his head tucked under Castiel’s.

Castiel wrapped one arm around Dean’s shoulders and held the man’s wrist with his other. He pressed his cheek against Dean’s head, and closed his eyes. He felt Dean heave a relaxed sigh, and Castiel listened to the beat of Dean’s heart steady and slow as he fell asleep. Castiel let his grace touch Dean’s soul as he’d once been able to, easing away any nightmares that might plague the man’s dreams.

Yes, he thought, he’d made many mistakes.

Dean Winchester was not one of those.


End file.
